Crystal Eyes
by Coru
Summary: Sequel to Little Voice...further adventures in the SwannSparrow clan and revelations of an unexplored past...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Crystal Eyes

Author: Coru

Disclaimer: All Pirates of the Caribbean characters and situations belong to Walt Disney Co., everything else is mine.

AN: I decided to set a specific date and timeline for my Pirates universe because it was getting kind of hard for me to keep track of when/where things were happening. So imagine CotB being about 1736, and the 'present' bits of Little Voice taking place in about 1745. I strongly suggest you read Little Voice first or a lot of this won't make an abundance of sense.

**Prologue**

**London, England, 1726**

She closed the large, hand-written book with a wistful smile. In the dim lamplight, her little girl's eyes were wide open and she stared at her mother. She never slept when there was a pirate story to be told.

"And then?" The little girl begged for more detail. "Was he caught? He got away didn't he Mother?"

"Yes," the word came softly as she tucked the blanket under her daughter's chin. "Of course he did darling. No one could ever capture the infamous -"

"Captain John Teague!" The name slipped from her lips, excitedly. "Please tell me another, I promise I'll go to bed after."

"Not tonight dear heart, tomorrow." She picked up the lamp and stood over the bed, eyes filled with an emotion that the girl would never understand.

"Please Mother, just one more. About Jack Sparrow!"

Her lips pursed in amusement, and she nodded. She set the lamp down upon the dresser again and picked up her book. "Captain Jack Sparrow darling," she corrected gently. "Now let's see...it was early June, and a hot summer evening...Nassau Port is usually quite heavily guarded, but that day there was a skirmish with the Spanish, and many of the soldiers had been called away..."

The little girl listened with rapt eyes and open ears, drinking in the adventures with an unending enthusiasm. She loved these stories.

She always remembered, in later years, the exact way her mother's eyes looked as she turned down the lamp, and the soft swish of her skirts as she left. Perhaps it was the excitement of the stories, or the intensity of her love that made it memorable...but most likely, it was the fact that it would be her _last_ memory of Victoria Swann.

And as the moonlit shadows grew long across the richly furnished home, a pale-haired woman packed a bag, and stole away into the night.

In the morning, Weatherby Swann found two letters, one addressed to him and one to his daughter. He stared, dry-eyed as the second curled to black ash in his fireplace, and went downstairs to tell the little girl that her mother had died in the night.

**Chapter 1**

**The Caribbean, 1747**

The salt sea toyed with her hair, pulling it from the long braid she had plaited the night before. She paid it no mind...what concern was it to her, with such a day ahead?

Strong, lean arms slid around her waist and she leaned back against the chest of her lover. "Good morning," she murmured.

He rested his chin on her shoulder, his beard tickling her neck. "Mornin' love," his hands rested on her slightly rounded belly, and he grinned to himself. She didn't have to look at him to see the smug expression on his swarthy countenance; the firm but gentle motion of his hands on her stomach told her exactly what he was thinking.

"Stop being so damn proud," Elizabeth elbowed him gently. "I'm doing most of the work here," she added, twisting her head to look at him. He wiped the smile from his face and nodded somberly, with a quiet 'aye, aye' that earned him another elbow in the gut. He grinned again and pulled away a bit. She let out an unconscious noise of objection and moved to follow, but her stopped her when he placed his hands on her shoulders. He began to knead gently, and she threw her head back with a moan. "You didn't just steal the devil's luck Jack, you took his hands too," she whimpered a little.

"Now Lizziebeth, those sort of noises are just for inside me cabin, savvy?" His hands drifted slowly, first closer together against her neck, then tracing her spine down her back. Her moans didn't abate, and he couldn't say he minded. Even if some of the crew were beginning to take notice – let them. It only added to his legend. He grinned to himself – imagining the stories it would generate. Not that he would use his Bess for increasing his notoriety but...well, if she insisted on acting in a helpful manner, he wasn't going to argue the point.

For her part, she was glad to have some measure of relief from her aches. It was only beginning she knew, it would get far worse in coming months – but for the first time she would have the father there for one of her children's births, and she couldn't say she regretted that. Even now, her stomach rounding, becoming firm from being four months with child and aboard a pirate ship, she was more content than she had been in all her years safely raising her children on land.

Speaking of her children...she glanced back over her shoulder, scanning the deck calmly. She smiled slowly, her eyes brightening as she spotted her young girl, a child not quite eight. She was, at the moment, standing near the helm, listening to one of Mr. Gibbs' more...outrageous tales of their previous adventures. She heard the word 'seaturtles' and couldn't resist a chuckle.

Jack's hands stilled and she whimpered in protest, but still leaned against his chest again as he wrapped his arms around her. A small contented noise escaped her, and she felt him smile against her neck. He pulled her close and for a few moments indulged in feelings of complacency. Things were, quite frankly, exactly as he wished them. Most importantly – they were very near how Elizabeth wished them, which in turn meant that she was happy, and added to his own general contentedness. He had long since discovered that a happy Elizabeth Swann was absolutely essential to any joy in his own life – not only because he enjoyed seeing her so, but because she was so excellent at making him utterly miserable when she was displeased.

Jack listened to Gibbs with half an ear, just in case any stories began to pass that were inappropriate for his Peg to hear. A good man for tales, but not terribly aware of...sensibilities – not to mention that his rarely involved faerie princesses, as Peg's favorites did.

He found it rather insulting that Peg never listened to his pirate stories – she demanded nothing but princesses and brave knights from her father, and piracy from everyone else. Elizabeth had told him one, laughing irrepressibly, that she supposed there was more honesty in his stories of the fae than in his tales of his own adventures – and usually more of himself too. Since he couldn't actually deny any of that, he had simply looked rather put out and proceeded to tell Peg an absolutely outrageous story of princesses, brave knights and fairies that had absolutely no similarities to anything he had ever experienced – just to be contrary.

Of course, she had hated it and begged him to tell a better one before bed. It was that exact moment that Jack Sparrow knew he was no longer his own person, because at least in the past he could imagine defiance and spit in the eye of his fate – but if this little girl could cow him with nothing but a sad expression in her big grey eyes, his true pirating days were lost to the world. No man can plunder and pillage when his heart has been pierced by a lisping voice – for she did lisp now, her front teeth lost weeks earlier on a different voyage – and baby-soft blonde curls.

And so he told her a tale that had taken place many years ago, when he was a boy and his father had taken him aboard the _Devil's Luck_. He described his sister with love, a strange young woman they had kidnapped with consternation, and his father with distaste; the adventure however, he described with truth and only the teeniest bit of exaggeration – which she rather astutely pointed out, seeming particularly unable to believe in his ability to take over entire ships of enemy pirates at the ripe old age of thirteen.

It was at this point that he concluded she was very clearly very tired, and would have to hear the rest of the story another time. He kissed her head, tucked her safely into her cot – they had converted the captain's dining room into an additional bedroom some months earlier – and left to go find himself his ladylove for a more adult tucking into bed.

Elizabeth had told him that night that she would have another child – and they had stayed up long into the wee hours attempting to find a way for their little family to survive on the sea.

It had been nearly two months since then, and neither were quite sure they had found a solution...they had rather avoided making any decisions by continuing on as they were, and hoping that nothing terribly traumatic happened. In fact the only difference that had come about was Jack's new insistence that Elizabeth hide with Peg – and Liam, on the occasions when Will would pop up aboard the _Flying Dutchman _and leave the boy behind – whenever there was any pirating to be done – which she had violently argued against only until their next endeavor, when she'd very nearly been stabbed directly in the abdomen. After that she accepted her lover's wisdom...for the next few months only, naturally and of course.

So this particular morning, when Jack spotted creamy sails on the horizon and with a familiar flag, she did not argue overmuch as he sent her to Captain's cabin.

"Bit of a personal fight I think love," he'd said reluctantly. "Knew the captain as a lad – had a bit of a falling out." She had looked at him, clearly waiting for further explanation. "Go on love, I'll tell you the story once we're sorted out."

"Aye," Elizabeth smiled and headed back to the cabin she shared with her captain. She paused on the steps and turned back to Jack. "Who is it?" She asked, almost as an afterthought.

"An old friend of Claudia's," he replied after a moment. "A lady-pirate by name of Tori Jenney. Captains the _Bluebird._ We've a few things to sort out between us darling, that's all."

A puzzled frown crossed Elizabeth's countenance, but she rounded up the children and hurried them into her cabin for safety.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Aboard the _Black Pearl, _1747**

He stood atop the rails, holding tight to the _Pearl_'s ropes. The ship which had been chasing them was catching up – because he let it, of course. Had they tried to run they would be long gone by now. As it was however, the _Bluebird_ was on rapid approach, and he could clearly make out the elegant blue swan on her flag. He couldn't resist a grin – this was an old battle he'd long wanted to settle.

It wasn't long before the ship was within boarding range, though only a single crew member stood at the rails of the approaching vessel. A tall woman of golden brown hair and razor-sharp grey eyes, she wore a large floppy hat adorned with feathers, and her clothes, though ragged, were clean and neat.

"Hallo there Jackie," the woman's voice was as crisp as her appearance. "I've come for a bit of a talk with you."

"I rather wagered you might be," Jack responded quickly. "But before we get to the talking it often happens that the talker should provide the talkee with a bit of private sustenance from the talker's personal cache and possibly allow the talkee to enjoy the refreshment before the talker begins his talking. Or her, of course."

She pursed her lips into a small frown. "If you think you can confuse me with your silly speech patterns," she called over derisively. "Then I believe you must have forgotten how much time I spent with your family. There will be no provisions transferring from my ship to yours, though I would not refuse the same if we were to have a short chat."

"That all depends me dear lady," Jack's voice turned a bit more sarcastic than usual. "I hear you are traveling with a guest I'd rather not have aboard me own ship, so any inviting would be specifically done with the intent of having only a single invitee, and preventing an additional noninvitees from attending."

A rough and familiar voice breached the gap as well, as one of the _Bluebird_'s crew members joined the captains' discussion. "Ahh Jack, you seem to be becoming a bit paranoid in your old age. What's one friendly pirate's visit to another?"

"Well, Hector, you tend to be a bit too comfortable aboard _my ship_," Jack's voice had a harsh edge now. "Beyond that, we've both attempted to kill each other several times – I succeeded – and I just don't like you."

Barbossa laughed a dry chuckle and nodded. "Quite mutual Jack..." he drawled. "But I'm afraid if there's talks to be had with Tori and you, then I am to be present for them."

"Well it seems unavoidable," Jack looked at them both suspiciously, but shrugged. "Come aboard then, my dear Tori and not so dear Hector, and we shall have a bit of talk – and we will of course agree not to shoot or otherwise damage one another's persons or ship," he added this last with a guarded look at the _Bluebird_. "As, despite that I would probably win, I prefer not to have my ship with holes blown in it."

"Aye, we have an accord Jack Sparrow!" If she heard his bitter mutter of 'captain', she did not acknowledge it, and in a few moments both had grabbed hold of rope and swung aboard. She held out her hand – he noted it was as unnaturally clean as he remembered her – and he accepted it, confirming their deal. He gestured grandly toward the stairs, and followed her a moment later – cutting rather rudely in front of Barbossa.

He opened the door of the captain's dining room – and occasional the captain's children's bedroom - and smilingly began to pour some rum, as Tori and Hector, at his rather firm insistence, set their effects across the table from themselves. He was sure they had additional weaponry on their person, but as long as they were lacking their pistols he didn't particularly mind.

"So love, I cannot fathom why you would travel with...that," Jack waved in the general direction of his former first mate as he propped his feet up on the table, quirking an eyebrow at the visitors. "He's not near worthy of you."

She nodded, taking a long pull from glass he'd handed her. "Aye, though I'd phrase it a bit more that he travels with me. 'Tis my ship, my crew, Hector simply serves as a handy...cabin boy," she smirked a bit and ran a hand along his arm. Jack shuddered in obvious revulsion.

"Charming," Jack pulled a face. "And there's no problems for you at all with the fact that he was previously attached to your dearest friend or that he marooned the younger brother of said dearest friend on an island to die whilst he stole said brother's ship from under his nose?"

"Well perhaps if said brother were not a rum-soaked simpleton he would have not lost said sister in the first place, thus leading to no hard feelings between the brother and the mutineer who marooned him, thus in fact not leading to a mutiny or marooning in the first place" she replied very quickly to all his comments, mocking his own speech with effort.

"You know, for all I blame myself for the ordeal it is more than frustrating to constantly be blamed by everyone else. It's been more than two decades love, and I'll wager I miss Claudia more than you do, so just please find something else to be annoyed at me about," Jack twirled his mustache between his thumb and forefinger. "After all, I've done a good many more upsetting things in the mean time."

"Aye ye have," Hector agreed. "Which nicely brings us to the next bit of business -" he was cut off rather sharply by the door to the dining room being quite violently shoved open.

Jack looked up at the door and saw his lover there, still holding her pistol in hand. He jumped up, well aware of exactly how _not _rational his Lizzie could be when she got a bad idea in her brain – particularly as her pregnancy wore on.

"Well if it isn't Miss Turner," Barbossa drawled, standing. He removed his hat and bowed genteelly. "Forgive me, if it isn't _my liege_, King Turner," he corrected himself.

Whatever response he had expected to that, it was most definitely not the one he received.

In fact, they were all a bit shocked when Elizabeth rose the pistol and fired a shot directly into Captain Jenney's chair. "Love, have we a problem?" Jack asked a moment later, holding his hands up, his expression placating – and turning rather desperate when a moment later _his _pistol was raised in her hand, aimed perfectly at Captain Jenney's forehead.

"Miss Turner, of the two of us it seems rather odd that she'd be the one you're shooting," Barbossa stood quite still. "And though I appreciate the kindness towards me self, I can't help but wonder what has put you in such a mood against me lady captain."

"Yes, exactly, shoot Hector!" Jack exclaimed. "If we are to kill people he is certainly more deserving love, I still rather like Tori."

Elizabeth's amber eyes were locked on the steel colored orbs of Captain Jenney. "I've heard of the Dread Tori you know," she said quietly. "But you, you I thought had died. I was told you'd been dead for many many years."

"Well you're not the first to be so misinformed," Captain Jenney replied tensely, her hand twitching against her leg as she eyed her own gun. "But you're the first who has tried to shoot me for that offense alone."

"I did not try to shoot you – if I'd wanted to shoot you I'd have shot you," Elizabeth's voice was too calm.

"I can vouch for that, she's quite a good shot," Jack interjected. At his lover's fierce glare he lapsed into silence, deciding it was in his best interest to simply not interfere.

"You see, I'm upset because I thought it was a rather reliable source. And I hate to have my sources proven incorrect, so I could solve the problem by making it correct."

"Well Mrs. Turner – that is who you are, isn't it? Wife of the Ferryman?" She didn't wait for confirmation. "Yes I'd heard Jack had stolen the wife of Flying Dutchman's Captain. I am sorry you have become disillusioned with your 'sources' but next time wait until you've heard from someone a bit closer to me before believing stories of my demise. They are usually greatly exaggerated."

"I doubt there are many closer than my source was, unless you have more husbands stowed up your sleeves."

That drew both all three captains up short. "Love, you know Tori's husband?" Jack looked between them. "Who exactly are you married to Tor? I thought he died years ago."

"Aye, even I've yet to hear the tales of London social life," Hector chuckled a bit to himself.

"I did know him Jack," Elizabeth corrected. "He is dead and has been for years."

"I had heard he died," Captain Jenney said quietly. "I was sorry, but that doesn't change it. He was a good man."

"He didn't _die_, you fool, he was murdered," her voice turned acid. "He wouldn't have been in the Caribbean to die if it weren't for you – he loved you and mourned you! He would have stayed in London if not for the fact that his home reminded him of you!"

"He did not love me, he loved the stories my father had painted of my gentle beauty," Tori's voice got quite hard. "He wanted me laced up and pinned for his collection of pretties."

"So you stole away into the night, pretending to have died? Clever trick. He was left believing he'd lost not only his daughter to pirates but his wife as well. I know for a fact that he mourned both until he died."

She went quite white. "His daughter? My daughter?" Her eyes grew quite wide and serious, bringing to Jack's mind an odd image of Abigail at her most intense. "You know what happened to her? I heard she was killed with him – killed by Beckett."

"She was certainly not killed, and certainly not by Beckett, though for no lack of trying," Elizabeth quirked a small smile and cocked the pistol. "Yo ho, a pirate's life for me," she sang softly, watching as realization dawned across Captain Jenney's face. Elizabeth's eyes glinted in the dim lamplight.

"Elizabeth?"

"Aye." She smiled. "Hello Mother."


End file.
